Queen for a day

How many of you remember the bizarre 1950s show, hosted by Jack Bailey, Queen for a Day? 

Four women were selected for each show, requesting a prize, such as a washer and dryer, to help them overcome some personal tragedy. They would elicit support from the audience by telling their sad story. Hankies in hand, they would sob as they recounted their misfortune.

The audience would then decide, via an "Applause-O-Meter," which story had affected them the most, and the winner would be deemed worthy of the title "Queen for a Day."

The winner won her prizes, and was bedecked in a sable-trimmed red velvet robe and a jeweled crown.

This was the most pathetic, ridiculous show of the 50s. It was also extremely popular and ran for fourteen years, into the 1960s.

Imagine, sharing your personal tragedies with the public, trying to outdo other contestants with your story, hoping to produce enough sobs to win the prize.

My younger sisters produced a fabulous and hilarious take-off on this show in our neighbors, the Bergs, basement. They invited parents and other neighbors to come view their show, complete with popcorn and chairs set up in theater-fashion.

My sister, Edie, played the role of "Mrs. Myron Tashisky," a fictitious name. Since "Mrs. Tashisky" was from the south, my sister adopted the appropriate drawl (Miz M-a-hron Tashi-sky).

Mrs. Tashisky had the most horrible sob story you could imagine. All she hoped to win on the show was a wringer washer for her eighteen children! Of course, her heart-wrenching story went on and on with great drama.

To further emphasize her distress, she unrolled and unrolled a giant roll of toilet paper (she couldn't afford Kleenex) to dry her tear-filled eyes as she recounted her distress, until there was toilet paper all over the stage.

Of course, Mrs. Tashisky won. Just to put your mind at ease.

Thankfully, we've come a long way since I Love Lucy (still one of my favorite shows, by the way) and Queen for a Day. 

But we have lost a lot, too.  My all-time favorite show, Andy Griffith, depicts a gentler, more sensitive time in Americana. I wish we had that back.

I watch very little television, preferring my own select DVDs to entertain me as I'm knitting in the evenings.  With two TVs in the house, my husband watches the other one, almost drowning out all other sounds with shooting, swearing, or engaging in....well, you know...

He likes action. The louder, the better, apparently.

I, on the other hand, wish for the 50s back. At least for the more tame television.

But definitely not, Queen for a Day.  That can well be buried in the past and stay there. Right along with The Newlywed Game.

A royal wedding

The anticipation is building as news broadcasters keep reminding us that it is almost time for the Royal Wedding of Prince William and Catherine Middleton. April 29. Now less than two weeks away.

Coverage of the wedding is scheduled to begin at 2:00 in the morning. I'll be sure to set my alarm. 

But in the event that I will likely sleep right through the night, we are sure to see it repeated, repeated, and repeated again throughout the days to follow.

Planning this wedding has to be akin to producing a Broadway musical. Bigger, actually, because the entire city of London is getting an extreme makeover to prepare for the big day.

The Household Cavalry Mounted Regiment have been busy rehearsing for their role. Two choirs, the London Chamber Orchestra, and two fanfare teams will perform. It is a huge production.

If I were William and Kate, I might steal away to a remote island and be wed in private. Then announce it and fool the whole world.  But wouldn't we all feel cheated?

While we are all set to watch the beautiful occasion on television, I am reminded of similar royal events we were invited to join via television: Prince Charles' and Lady Diana's wedding, Princess Diana's funeral with Elton John performing Goodbye, England's Rose. There wasn't a living room anywhere that didn't have viewers with dry eyes.

But the most memorable Royal occasion for me was the crowning of Queen Elizabeth.

A while back, I told you of the little duplex our family lived in during the early 50s.  Next door to us, in a huge house that was our church parsonage, lived the Drews family.

The Drews’ had purchased a television set, perhaps for the express purpose, but definitely just in time for the broadcast of the Royal Coronation.  It was June 1953, and I was watching my very first television program.

It was an exciting evening as we all gathered around the little black and white television with the rounded screen, its place of honor on top of the dining room buffet.

We watched in awe at the Royal procession of the Queen. And we were breathless as the Queen bowed her head ever so slightly and the heavy, jeweled, platinum crown was placed on her head.

She was so somber, yet so beautiful, so regal. A Queen.

And now, we will catch our collective breath again as we watch this graceful, young bride walk down the very long aisle of Westminster Abbey to meet her groom, and become royalty.

Every so often, we need a glimpse of royalty in a fairy-tale land that is not ours. We need our faith restored in dreams that come true, in beauty, grace, and goodness.  We need this wedding.

So I hope they do not secretly escape to a remote island. And as I watch and hold my breath, I will remember the other royal events that made me feel a bit of magic and majesty.

I'm so glad we are all invited.